Evil Has Two Sides
by Jackrabbit2011
Summary: He was a boy with no future, she a girl with no past. Together they were a lethal weapon, designed to dispose of Voldemort, unknowingly making a path for the real, disturbed enemy...
1. Prologue

Prologue-

A/N:**Hello! I could say something immensely boring, like 'this is my first fanfic!' but I'm not going to, everybody does that. **

**Whether this is good or not is for you to decide, hate it? Love it? Can't be bothered either way? Tell me anyway, I'm tough, I'll handle it. I hope it's not a complete waste of you time, but that's my fault if it is, so it's up to you to read it. **

Disclaimer:**I own nothing but my thoughts, and the plot. And maybe some characters you**** don't recognise. **

Summary: **He was a boy with no future, she a girl without a past. Together they were a lethal weapon, designed to dispose of Voldemort, unknowingly make the path clear for the real, disturbed, enemy… **

13th February 1960,

The fire crackled, bathing the circular room in eerie green light, casting the backs of silver and emerald chairs and the singular crystal chandelier in shadow. It was wide, but the room had only two miniscule windows, as if the creator detested light and wished it to be banished from the owners' life completely. The bare stone wall was unadorned with paintings, ornaments, _anything_ to give the room more life; grey, silver and sickly green were the only accomplices of the room that seemed a prison to anyone who walked through the door.

Except one. The owner of the deathly place had never particular favoured these colours, until his sixteen birthday, when he met a being who opened his eyes to the world and sealed his path in stone. Before that fateful day, Albus Dumbledore's life could have developed any way; there were thousands of opportunities laid out before him, but the moment his eyes had rested upon that cruel -but unknowing- person, had opened his mouth in greeting, all other doors had fallen shut and only one path was clear to him. He walked into destiny's arms, and never managed to break her hold.

He never realised any of this; that he could have had a normal life- well, normal for a wizard who was so pure in spirit and had potential up to his eyebrows- instead of getting caught up in destiny's disastrous clasp. But for Albus, everything he did, however monstrous, however despicable and terrifying, it was always _for the greater good. _

Back then, when he was younger, Albus had believed himself invincible, indestructible, a being of power so immense he was obliged to harness his gift, and put it to the rightful cause; domination of the Muggles. But, as time passed, and Dumbledore's knowledge grew, he began to realise what he had become, how completely vulnerable he was, and no talent with a piece of wood could protect him from that. It was true what people said about him, whispered behind his back; Dumbledore was a great wizard. Terrible, but great.

But in the end, it was inevitable that Albus Dumbledore's past would catch up with him, no matter how fast he ran.

A/N:**In my eyes, this isn't really long enough to be a proper chapter, this is just explaining why Dumbledore did what he did (Hint) and how he paid the price. I was going to be mean, and say no reviews, no updates, but I know how that feels, so I won't. But you are completely welcome to review if you want. **

_**G**_**P**


	2. Meeting

Chapter one, Meeting

A/N: **Yay! First chapter's up! I quite like it but I've made complete enemies of my parents and brother as I wouldn't give up the computer. But hopefully they'll get over it. I have been telling them for years to get me laptop but they're too stingy, so can I be blamed for using it? Again, this is more of a introductory chapter; the action comes later, I promise, so bear with me!**

**You heard my last disclaimer: it all goes to the lady who thought it all up- J.K Rowling**

10th September,

The grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were shrouded in darkness, despite the early hour (dinner had only recently begun) and chilling mist rose from the earth, stained a soft orange from the fiery glow emanating from each of the thousands of windows. The light was so intense that no-one who looked from the windows would see the black wall of the forest, or the meeting that would take place on its outskirts.

One lone cloaked figure stood tensely in the looming shadows of the towering oaks that built up the Forest; their tall, thin posture posed expectantly, a wisp of pale ginger-brown hair streaked with faint grey protruding from under the hoods shadow. It was not immediately clear to a passing eye what the figure was waiting for; that is until the soft, almost imperceptible hoof sounds issuing from behind the iron gates- the metal shining dully in the sparse light- drifted to the figures ears. The effect was dramatic; the figure straightened abruptly, frozen so intensely he might have been carved from stone. The seconds crawled by laboriously, not an inch of the silhouette's tense form relaxed, the hoof beats growing in volume until a black, deformed shape appeared at the gates. The horse- a pure black stallion- snorted impatiently as the figure sprang from its formal stance and hurried to open the thick gates.

They opened silently, a result of being well oiled and considerably cared for; these were the visitors' gates, designed wholly to intimidate and inspire awe in any being that crossed their threshold. The person who entered the grounds of Hogwarts then, however, gave no inclination that they were intimidated or, indeed, interested in the intricate work at all.

The rider continued into the grounds, ignoring the figure that followed behind it, until it passed under a wide limestone archway into a courtyard, an enormous fountain at its centre, ivy snaking through the glassless windows that looked onto the passive waves of the lake below.

The person dismounted, the heavy black travelling cloak billowing like wings around their thighs as they did so.

"Celia, I am grateful that you have come." The figure's deep, masculine voice rang through the air; the words appearing genuine, but his tone implied something more. The cloak's hood was pushed back to reveal a fair shock of hair and blue eyes. A stretched silence hung in the air as the rider remained soundless, and with his back to the greeter, began to unseal the silver leaf-shaped clasp at their throat.

"You doubted me?" the second voice of the newcomer was quiet, emotionless and obviously belonged to a woman; it was young, yet old, as if the person who owned it had seen more than her years' worth.

"A little," The man admitted in a whisper, causing the woman to snort softly. They were walking now, through glass-less corridors lit with green flames atop beige stone pillars. "Last I heard you were negotiating with the Vampires in the Atlian Mountains."

"I was," she replied, her voice barely heard over the rain that had began moments before as a light patter and increased to a roar. " They had already received a request from Voldemort,-" her eyes flashed with anger as she uttered the Dark Lord's name, but they held not the barest hint of fear like so many of the others the man had seen speak the word. "- he wishes them to join his forces, the usual demands and promises were made; an oath of loyalty and as many humans at their disposal as they could possibly want.

"The messenger he sent was massacred as a result; the Atlians are 'vegetarians' as they like to term it, and they regard it as an insult to mistake them for their murderous brethren."

"Ah," the man sighed, such a waste, too many lives had been lost in this war already. They had entered the Entrance Hall now; dinner was finished and the students were pouring from the Great Hall like water, many stopped and stared at Celia as they passed. The man chuckled; no blame could be set upon them for the rude gesture; dressed in black with the cloak swirling around her, Celia was irresistible to many of the male students; with her youth and air of authority, she was a figure that was awe inspiring and, due to her pale skin and dark grey eyes, easily mistaken for a member of the Undead, who used their ethereal beauty to lure unsuspecting humans into their clutches. The man's chuckle deepened; thankfully Celia had her hood remaining up, so nobody could see her face, if she hadn't, chaos would surely have issued. She regarded the gawping pupils dismissively; she had seen the influence of her beauty take its toll countless times before.

Reaching the sleeping quarters that now belonged to Celia in record time (the students-and teachers alike- had parted like the Red Sea before the pair, making travel considerably easier.) the woman turned to her companion at the door.

"I begin on Monday, correct?"

"Correct. I will see you at the breakfast table tomorrow morning my dear," he declared with a smile. "Until then… farewell Celia."

"Farewell, Albus."

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A/N: **So there you have it, second chapter in two days, I'm on a role! Hope you like it, and thanks to; the daughter of Slytherin and amythestpony for being my first reviewers. (I'm happy- maybe sad and have no life- but happy nonetheless!) **

**I apologise for any spelling or grammatical errors; my nine week old kittens are fascinated by the keyboard and just HAVE to jump on it.**

**Review, maybe? **

_**G**_**P**


	3. First Sight

Chapter two, First Sight

A/N: **Wow, three chapters in four days, not a lot, considering what I normally write, but still. Right, you're probably wondering how the hell the first chapter and the prologue connect, but (hopefully) it will become clearer as **_**E.H.T.S. **_**continues. So, here is First Sight, where you finally get to meet my 'Sex God' of Hogwarts. This is written in third person but sways towards Sirius, so you'll get to hear what he's feeling when he first sets eyes on a certain mysterious black-haired woman. **

Disclaimer: **If I was J.K, I probably wouldn't be writing on but you never know. I own nothing but Celia and some other characters that aren't in it yet but will be. **

Amythestpony: **Maybe she will, maybe she won't. But you find out in this chapter, so get reading!**

**Sorry, it's a bit of a long chapter, but I just couldn't stop my fingers typing. **

13th September,

"Wha' haff yun get nuct?" James mumbled, his head bowed low over his plate to catch any morsels of food making a courageous- but futile- bid for freedom. "Patfud?"

Sirius Black was lounging casually in his seat, eyes vacant, as usual not touching a scrap of the breakfast food in front of him. Mountains of mushrooms, piles of bacon and stacks of toast surrounded him on every side, the combined aroma triggering reactions from everybody else in the room with the alluring scent, yet he gave no notice to the food, even though it was clear that he hadn't eaten since the previous night (as James had remarked, before stuffing his mouth with food; "Your stomach's deafening me, Sirius, for the love of good, eat something!") "Honestly Sirius," Remus Lupin said quietly, spearing a slice of expertly diced Alaskan sausage on his forks and placing it delicately into his mouth with the care that comes from a more than sophisticated upbringing. "I have no idea what it is with this whole not eating in the morning thing, it's just going to make you ill." His educated voice was ridden with disapproval at his friend's behaviour.

Sirius pouted, flicking his black hair out of his dark eyes impatiently- several girls at the Hufflepuff table sighed admiringly- Lupin snorted; not a full day back at school and already the girls were pining after his friend.

"Make me, Sirius Black, ill?" He said in disbelief, mock outrage etched onto his features. "You words wound me to the heart, Moony!" He swooned and fell into Lily's lap; James scowled. Sirius laughed at his expression.

"Ah, get a hold of yourself, Prongs, you know she's not my type." He grinned and winked up at Lily who, despite being surprised and annoyed at Sirius landing unexpectedly on her lap (many of the female students had hissed with envy at this moment- most shared the dream of the rebellious Black flinging himself at them) she fought in vain to hide the smile creeping onto her lips.

"Oh that's right," Remus muttered sarcastically, but grinning like a loon anyway. "We forgot you prefer the other type- the ones that don't have half a brain cell between them to and faint every time you so much as look their way."

"So pretty much ever other girl in the whole school, then." James roared with laughter, his mood now even brighter as Lily dumped Sirius' head off her lap unceremoniously, so it hit the bench with a thud.

"Ow!" He squealed, leaping up and rubbing the back of his head. "Unnecessary, unfunny and so not cool, woman!"

"It was funny and you know it." She shot back tartly as she and her gaggle of giggling girls- including her closest friends, Valentia Mae and Constance Ford- strode past the three boys, many breaking into fits of high-pitched laughter at random moments. Remus, Sirius and James gaped after them, the latter perhaps, gawping slightly _too _much, and as the party reached the vast doorway, Lily turned and smiled timidly in their direction, her gaze zeroing in on one person in particular. (A/N: Three guesses who that was!)

"Well," Sirius leaned, comfortably at ease, at the table, a satisfied smirk on his face. "It seems I have more admirers- did you happen to catch that smile Evans shot at me, Prongs? She obviously infatuated with me, can't say I blame her."

James growled, his eyes burning with jealousy. Remus dropped his serious stance and looked at his livid friend sympathetically, as one would if confronted with a being that was mentally challenged.

"James," He sighed, shaking his head. "Are you blind?" James' blank expression spurred him on. "It's you Lily's interested in, idiot."

"But…but, Sirius just said"- James spluttered, but Sirius interrupted him.

"I think you can count on one hand how many times I've ever been serious, and still have plenty of fingers to spare, mate." He joked lightly.

"So she wasn't smiling at you?" James pondered, his mind drawing the conclusion so slow it was painful to witness. "So, so… she was smiling at me!"

"Bingo, finally." Remus muttered under his breath. James yelped and leapt from his chair.

"I've got to follow her!"

Sirius placed his hand on his friends shoulder and gently pushed downwards; James sinking onto the bench he had just vacated and casting Sirius a befuddled look that was more common on the face of a five year old, rather than that of a person over three times older than that.

"Um, mate," Sirius began, but Remus interrupted him; "She's probably grown a beard by now, James, you took that long to figure it out."

"No! There's still time…" He babbled frantically, all the hope fading from his eyes as he said the words none of the trio believed.

"Better luck next time, eh?" Sirius patted his shoulder pityingly.

"Yeah, I suppose." James face of dejection tore Sirius in half; one side battling the impulse to laugh, while the other just wanted to cry.

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"So what's first?" Sirius's voice carried over the chattering of the crowd that surrounded them, so his friends could hear him easily, however deafened they were as they exited the Hall by what could only be described as a mob, the sound steadily increasing in volume until their eardrums were throbbing.

"You haven't got a timetable?" Lupin shouted back in disbelief. "McGonagall gave us all one yesterday."

"Nah. Lost it." Sirius's tone implied it to be the most natural thing in the world to misplace your timetable within the first twenty four hours of acquiring it. Remus muttered rapidly under his breath, releasing the words too swiftly to be comprehensible to Sirius, he did however catch several of the profanities and phrases- such as 'incompetent' and 'arrogant berk', causing him to slice his bottom lip open in the effort of refraining from laughing. "I'll borrow Peters."

Remus and James shared a troubled glance.

"Didn't you know?" James' voice was laden with surprised incredulity. "Peter's missing, his whole family are; their house is empty, like they haven't been there for weeks."

Sirius' usually cheerful, carelessly handsome face fell, his eyes dulled until they were devoid of emotion, and his mouth set in a hard line.

"So that's that then." His voice was flat, showing not the barest hint of feeling.

"So…" James coughed, uncomfortable at the tense, morose silence. "What have we got first?" He asked Sirius' original question. Remus leapt on the question and answered hurriedly. "Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"With who?" Sirius asked, curious, James and Remus sighed with uncontained relief; glad that the subject had switched courses. "Old Retifa resigned last year, lazy bugger, he was only here a year."

"So's every other DADA teacher we've ever had." James broke in with a snort.

"New teacher… Miss Angeletti."

"Ooh, Miss, eh?" Sirius grinned, a plan forming already in his dashingly cunning marauder mind. "If she's younger than twenty five, thirty galleons say she could be mine before the end of the year." James sniggered, but Remus frowned.

"Is that all your miniscule, adolescent mind thinks about?" He demanded furiously, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Bedding teacher to up your grades?"

"Would I ever really do that, Remmie?" Sirius asked innocently, his eyes wide and empty of guilt. "Would I really ever cop off with a teacher? Rhetorical question, Moonykins, don't answer that (Lupin had scowled and opened his mouth to retort with the right answer) - anyway, I'm not saying I _will, _just that I _could_."

"Can't argue with that." He agreed reluctantly.

"Besides, as if I would do it to up my grades- they're perfect already."

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Sirius idly fiddled with the cuffs of his immaculate white dress shirt while the class waited in excited chatter for the mystery-shrouded teacher they had never seen before. Miss Angeletti wasn't present yet. It appeared Sirius thought, that this teacher was not one for arriving on time.

"Oi, Remmie, what's the time?"

"Ten to." He answered, looking up from sketching a spectacular illustration of a phoenix. The tones and shading were perfect; it almost looked like Sirius was staring a miniature version of an actual fire-bird.

"Nice." Remus grinned sideways at Sirius, and returned to his artwork.

Before he could do anything else, the door clanged open and slender, feminine figure clad in black strode in to the room, her face obscured by her medium length black hair that swung over her shoulder. Sirius straightened in his chair, his face foolishly expectant; time to play with the new girl, to see how far he could push her.

As she sashayed towards the desk, the Black examined her; she was slender, but tall, around his height, her wide-sleeved robe hanging close to her body, tied at her waist- accenting her lack of weight even more prominently- with a simple yet stylish back sash.

The banter and raucous laughter of the thirty-so carefree adolescents in the room gradually dwindled as more eyes took note of the figure that had entered the casual, laid-back atmosphere of the teacher less classroom. When it had ceased altogether, the woman glanced up.

Whatever Sirius Black had been expecting, the magnitude of the reaction that swept over him wasn't it. Cold swept over his body, followed by a rush of heat, then cold again as the woman's eyes found his. As their eyes met, an electric current sparked into life down Sirius' spine, running its length, making him shudder involuntarily. Her lips curved at the edges, transforming into a beautiful half-smile, almost like she could tell what he was thinking. His heart rate accelerated, his ribs burning as he gasped for breath.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the eye contact broke as the woman shifted her gaze to the rest of the class, who had broken into chatter as they realised that it was impossible for this person to be the teacher. It was true, Sirius realised abruptly; she was too young, she almost looked the same age as the seventh years in the classroom, awaiting their instructor but secretly relishing in the extra time they had to chat.

Sirius watched her face- it was unfeasible, no matter how he tried to look away, all his efforts were in vain. Her eyes were liquid topaz, smouldering slightly against her white skin, and the hair that had selfishly stolen her face from him when she first entered the classroom was the deepest black imaginable, perhaps even darker. This woman, the incarnation of pure beauty, didn't belong in this imperfect world, where everyone was shadowed by her inhuman splendour.

Lucius Malfoys' cold, confidant drawl released Sirius from the stunned, freezing void he was slipping into; "So, when's that bloody teacher gonna get here?" You"- the menace in his voice was clear, he obviously expected the woman (who, Sirius was sure now, could not be over eighteen.) to be intimidated and tell him what he wanted. "Know where she is? And who the hell are you?" he seemed to add the last sentence as an after thought, she, however, didn't even flinch as he glared down at her, just returned his stare coolly and, without answering him, turned on her heel and walked fluidly to the desk. Malfoy was shaking with rage; _nobody _treated him, a Malfoy, like that!

From beneath her robes, she produced a slender piece of wood and rapped the board with it. She had the whole class's attention now, they all waited with baited breath; some uttered gasps as two words appeared on the board-recognition and incredulity slowly dawned on Sirius and every other students faces as they read the elegantly scripted words.

Celia Angeletti

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A/N: **Okay, it is a ridiculously long chapter (it's like 2000 words), but I think it's alright. It's a bit of a cliffy thing at the end, at least I think it is, so I'll try an update as soon as I can, but everyone is discussing putting a restraining order on me computer-wise. Not that that'll stop me. The kittens were at me again, so spelling mistakes and any other errors please tell me of and I'll pass it on to them. **

**Review? Even if it's just one word, throw it in anyway, I like them. **

_**G**_**P**


	4. Dreams For A Duo

Chapter Four- Dreams Of A Duo

A/N: **Hello! I'm back! As you can see… read, whatever, I've managed to elude my parents and update! This isn't as long as the previous chapter, not even close, but it's a necessity. It's sort of just a detached chapter, if you will, and only the first half has much to do with the CURRENT story concerning Sirius, Celia, the marauders etc. but the second is to do with Dumbledore… so you do have to read it, not skip it like my****cousin did…**

Amythestpony: **Celia's not famous, yet. And they're shocked because she's their teacher but she's their age, so she should be in school; not to mention the four years she would have to spend training to be a teacher, which should make her at the least twenty two, but obviously she is not. So, the question is; is she really what she seems? **

Disclaimer: **I don't claim. **

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12th September, Midnight,

_**Darkness, swirls of colour, pain. Unidentifiable voices, snatches of long forgotten conversations, flashing images; a faceless figure, parchment, the words elegant and flowing: the ink shining like blood, no, it was blood… **_

_**A clearing, swept bare of fallen leaves, even though they cascaded earthwards all around it, never crossing an unseen barrier. A dozen figures, clad in impeccable white robes- their faces concealed in the hoods' shadows- circled a black, bare plinth, its flat top was unburdened, its rim engraved with unrecognisable symbols… **_

_**A harbour, the thunderous waves seizing the frail boats and viscously slamming them into the ports' wall, splintering them as effortlessly as if they were built of glass. The torrential rain hammering down in icy sheets, giving birth to immense lakes of water on the pavement, shattering their surfaces, expanding them further still… **_

…_**a child, crying, desperately thrashing on it back, surrounded by rapidly growing pools of water. **_

… _**The anguished cries of a disembodied voice, the agony clear in the noise, the terrified shriek of a mother facing her worst fear. **_

_**The white clad figures, silent as stone, advancing on a black-haired girl, no more than twenty, her arms outstretched, shielding the cowering child behind her from the faceless soldiers, her face showing no hint of fear, only fury and protective instinct. As one, the dozen or so figures shook their heads free of the hoods embrace, showing their flat eyes, their granite features; the hands of each rose in unison, palms facing the girl. In sync their mouths moved, as if they were drones, controlled by a singular being, formed words incomprehensible from this distance, and simultaneously twenty four white splashes of light streaked through the air towards the girl. A metre before impact, they combined to form one colossal meteor; its destination the defiant woman before it…**_

**Celia woke to her own screaming. **

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12th September, Midnight,

_**The face of his enemy, but also his best friend, taunted him viciously. "Join me, Dumbledore…" the deep voice, familiar in two, disastrously contrasting ways. His enemy? His ally? Who was he anymore? Was there any difference?**_

"_**No! I will never be the same as you!" **_

_**The voice, disembodied and fearsome, laughed humourlessly-circling around Dumbledore's suspended head, seeping into his bones, his blood, so now he could no longer differentiate where he existed and his friend- enemy?- did. "No? Ah, but you already have, Dumbledore, just look in the mirror…" **_

_**Albus turned his head, the face staring back at him from the gilt frame was not his; the ragged hair, the insane glint in his eyes, the cruel, taunting grin pulling at the pale lips… **_

_**He glanced down at his hands, folded on his knees (how had they got there? He had been lying down before.) And gave a cry of horror and incredulity as he stared, mouth agape, at the pale, blood spattered fingers that were not his. No, they were too accustomed to torturing people, causing agony, too cold-blooded to be his hands…**_

"_**Do you really think that, Albus?" the voice laughed, the sound, bitter and icy echoed off the walls that had not existed seconds before… "Do you honestly believe you are better than I?" **_

"_**Yes." He gasped, ever word tore at his throat, knives that with double edges, slicing his gullet repeatedly as he forced the words out. "You are nothing but a murderer, I'm … I'm"-**_

"_**- the thinker; you made the plans, Albus," the voice stated, the ice embedded in every syllable directed at him, his dream-self, stabbing at his resolve, until he was uncertain even of his name... "All I did was perform the acts you invented." **_

"_**No! You're lying!" Albus shrieked, desperately. "I never would have wanted those things to happen! I stopped you, I saved everybody from you!"**_

"_**And yet you couldn't save your sister from yourself." **_

_**Albus' fraught arguing ceased; he floated, energy gone-to be replaced by over whelming guilt- in the timeless black void he had been sucked into via his unconsciousness. **_

"_**Stop fighting, Albus," The voice urged, and Dumbledore's spiritual eyes flickered in response. "Abandon the ways you have, you know they're trivial, useless. The world is slowly choking itself, Albus, you know that. With the two of us, we can resurrect what is destined- what is right- and save the world from itself." **_

"_**Yes," Dumbledore whispered, his will crumbling at each of the formless person's words. The welcoming black rose to greet him, and he plunged into it head first, without protest. **_

_**He did not resurface. **_

**Albus Dumbledore's eyes snapped open, the silver light puncturing his curtains and bouncing off the ceiling in mystical, alluring dances; he rose, as he did so, he caught sight of himself in the green mirror hanging adjacent to his bed- an unbreakable habit; to gaze at himself every morning the minute he sat up. He seemed normal, the same as the previous night he had woken after a dream he failed to recollect, remembering only that it caused him mental agony. He was uninterested in his appearance today- tonight to be accurate- and maybe that was why he failed to take note of his eyes.**

**Coal black and seething with hatred and insanity, such so that it did not belong to a creature of this world. Or his hands. Hands that were streaked with shining red. **

"**For the greater good." Dumbledore whispered, his voice mangled, deformed, a mixture between his own and another's. "For the greater good." **

A/N:**So there you have it: my fourth chapter, hope you liked it- confused? Good. Sorry about the wait; first I had homework, then I had to figure the plot out… and it just kinda took a back seat for a couple of days. **

The daughter of Slytherin**: I know, they're so sweet! I couldn't believe it when the mum (Tank) appeared in my grandma's garage (apparently the old people's home had been feeding her for weeks) and gave birth to them- six in total. They're about ten weeks now. **

Next chapter**: a near death, a rescue and feelings no-one can explain. **

P.S- **The last three chapters have been replaced (don't worry, the content is the same!) so now each has a date at the beginning of the story. Most of them don't matter, but the several- mostly the first- is relevant to it, so it would be beneficial to acknowledge it. **

**Review?**

_**G**_**P**


	5. Angel

Chapter Four- Angel

A/N:** Soooo sorry for the long wait; I've done a long chapter for you to make up for the time. Okay, fifth chappie up; this is the one where Sirius like, dies. Sort of, well, you'll find out… **

**Right, I've got some metaphorical bones to pick with you lot out there; how is it, that the last time I looked, three hundred-odd of you spiritual being had seen my story and only three of you review? Disgraceful! **

P.S**- you may be wondering where I've been the last few days; I've been updating my OTHER story (check it out please! Warning: it's sort of dark, it includes the best character: Sirius, who else? And someone else…) it's called 'Broken'. **

Disclaimer:** I own nothing but a computer and a lollipop, and Andy's run off with that… … it's all J.K's. **

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13th September,

Sirius sighed,

"An Anchi," Professor Binns droned flatly, his face devoid of any excitement whatsoever about the subject he was teaching, his eyes staring absentmindedly out of the window at the sun washed grounds far below. "Is a spiritual being with the physical form of a human, it is impossible to differentiate them from actual humans. Its beauty is immense; it can be recognised by its eyes; they change colour regularly, the average a shade of topaz." Sirius's head snapped up form the shaggy black dog he was sketching, his mouth slightly open as he registered the information he had heard by chance (the last sentence Binns had uttered was the only one Sirius had heard) his head turned to Remus, who was sitting next to him, who had also looked up, shock on his handsome face, from the drawing _he _was doing- he was still concentrating on the phoenix from Defence Against the Dark Arts.

No… she couldn't be…

Could she?

Only one way to be sure; it was major studying time…

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"We are. Going. To. Hogssssssssssmeead!" James sang cheerily as the three Marauders, shadowed by Lily and her girls made their way through the gates of Hogwarts and practically ran to the village.

"Yes, Prongs, we're all very happy for you." Remus said sarcastically, sandwiched between Valentia and Connie and looking extremely uncomfortable at having his ears talked off by them.

"Ooh, sarcy," James teased lightly, bouncing with each footstep. "I'm not sure I like this side of you, Moony. Girls, step away!"

Both girls exploded into laughter, Sirius wiggled his eyebrows.

"Ah, James, my presence has rubbed off on you; they're hanging on you every word."

"Padfoot?" Lily asked sweetly, her eyes suspiciously innocent.

"Yeah, Lils?"

"Shut up."

Remus, James, his beloved Lily and her girls shouted farewell to Sirius as he sprinted towards the dirt road that led up into the mountains. Once in the cover of the trees, he fell forwards, his hands at his sides and fell flat on his face.

Well, that's what should have happened, but it didn't; Padfoot was far too cool for that. Where Sirius Black had once been, a long haired, pitch black mongrel dog ran in his place, it leapt over the fallen branches, skirted through impossibly narrow gaps for a canine so huge until it skidded abruptly to a stop; sending pebbles careering in every direction, at the edge of the trees, where the rocky shore of a medium sized lake could be seen.

Sirius couldn't explain what drew him here; all his friends were not interested in the unremarkable lake; its black, glass like surface that was surrounded by large, leafy plants in various shades of green; the snow topped mountains of purple rock that sealed the edge of the trees and the lake in an enclosed valley. The area around it was occupied by such valleys, and this particular one was nothing special, yet Sirius felt a connection between this one and himself. Sad really, but something beyond his control.

He tossed palm sized stones into the water, its surface shattering in thousands of ripples that veered away from him, the black depth swallowing the pebbles whole with ease. The strap of his bag was cutting into him; Sirius dumped it on the damp stones and joined it seconds later, rifling through the black bag's contents, shoving objects aside carelessly as he looked for something in particular: a bronze covered book, swirling gold spirals adorning it, its pages caramel with gold tips. _Anchi Analogy _was written in elegant gold script across the front.

Sirius rapidly scanned the page, his eyes widening with realisation as he progressed down it; by the time he had reached the end of the page, he was certain. Certain and horrified in equal measure. _Here _was the proof he had been searching; only now he had read it, he wished he hadn't.

_An Anchi, _the book read, _ is a being of spiritual nature; it is recognisable only by its eyes- they are a deep gold, which fades to topaz, to ochre, steadily growing in darkness as the month begins to end; by the last week, they are pitch black. By then the creature is weak, and must strengthen themselves again; to rejuvenate, they must feed off the magic in other people; they must absorb all that persons power, by the ed of it, the person is dead. _

_They are not easily differentiated from humans, but humans have a natural aversion to them, (although this is often ignored when they become enraptured by the Anchi beauty) and unconsciously avoid them without being able to explain why. Anchi have properties that surface at varying ages; they themselves do not know what abilities they have until they appear. One given ability is that they can change into a creature that best reflects their personality, all Anchi have enhanced senses, enabling to react easily to attack, etc. _

_Anchi are' speakers'; they are connected to present world, but also the world of Death. They link themselves to that world, and are able to converse with the deceased. They have various nicknames; The Speaker, Server of the Afterlife and The Angel of Death. They are called the last because each Anchi has wings of varying wingspan, colour and shape; which enable them to fly._

_Because of their 'eating' habits (Anchi do not eat human food ) the power they acquire leaves them immortal- they remain the same age as when the first of their abilities surface. They remain this way indefinitely; no age has been recorded of their age limit. _

_An alive Anchi is extremely valuable and rare- the capture and slaughter of them is prohibited due to the death risk of fighting one; they have abnormal strength, speed and of course, power. But it is their blood that is most precious, in it runs the power of thousands of once strong wizards; with the proper ritual, it can reawaken the dead. _

Reawaken the dead… absorb the power out of humans… golden eyes that fade to black… … immortal…

Sirius was satisfied that he was right, but in that satisfaction, lay awe, but most of all, fear. She did that, she killed innocent people; she _slaughtered _them in cold blood every month, just so she could be immortal? She was nothing more than an animal, a creature who murdered people.

Yet Sirius still could not hate her.

There was something about her, a certainty that made Sirius sure she would not commit such an act, as horrendous and atrocious as it was, of her own free will.

_Reawaken the dead. _

That last sentence was eating away at him; could they really do that? It was impossible.

But so was having eyes that changed colour…

But it was true, that bit- if, of course, Sirius was right in his suspicion- so why not everything? The shape changing- that wasn't unheard of, Sirius knew that, he ran around with his best mates as a dog once a month- so why not all of it? Sirius hissed, frustrated; what was the truth and what was myth here?

Before he could think anything else, Sirius stood up as his Animagus- enhanced ears registered the low snarl from the trees to his right. The waist-high ferns rustled, and a blue-grey, hulking form emerged into the clouded light.

It was a cat. A very big, white and grey cat. A hungry looking one too.

"Oh, shit." Sirius breathed as the monster caught his scent on the air and turned its attention to him, roared quietly and stalked towards him. It snarled menacingly, displaying the hand length fangs its mouth harboured, two inches thick and dripping with saliva, and began to circle him. Sirius tried to inconspicuously search for his wand; his wand might save him- a small, rather annoyingly unasked for voice whispered in his mind; what would the piece of stupid wood do anyway, levitate the feline to death? Still, it would make him feel better.

His pockets were empty. _Crap. _

He looked up, his eyes met the cat's merciless hunters eyes and all hope failed him; he was going to die. He, Sirius Black, was going to die; nobody would notice, nobody would care and he hadn't had chance to organise the mass catastrophe in the Main Hall that he had been planning for weeks (it involved water balloons, yelling teachers and pure genius- it was too bad he couldn't do it.)

The cat lunged. Sirius yelped, ducked and waited for the ruthless claws to rip into his skin.

The pain didn't come.

Sirius opened his eyes.

Celia Angeletti was crouched in front of him, her shoulders opposite his face, glaring a the equally tense cat several feet away; the wind ruffling her hair, so that it swirled around her head like a black halo. A deep, threatening growl erupted from nowhere, and it took Sirius a moment to realise it came from deep in Celia's chest. The cat's eyes widened with the concentration of the hunter, it slanted sideways on it front paws, Celia re-angled her body, so she was still protecting Sirius; a second growl, with a new, hostile edge to it, issued from her lips.

The cat deliberated for a split moment, then leaned forwards to sniff Celia. The moment its nose came closer and caught Celia's scent, it jerked backwards abruptly, fear sparking in its eyes, and turned, sprinting hastily towards the forest from whence it came.

Sirius remained frozen, immobile with fear, Celia turned, immediately relaxing; her expression smoothing into one of warmth and friendliness, but not before Sirius caught the face that had been present seconds before; cold, animalistic fury, her eyes black and challenging.

Black. Her eyes were black, last week, when he had had Defence, they had been sparkling topaz.

Sirius backed away, the terror evident in his face. Celia frowned, curiosity and puzzlement replacing the warmth.

"Are you alright, Mr. Black?" She asked, carefully. "Did the leopard injury you?"

Sirius just stared.

"Sirius?"

At his first name, Sirius jolted out of the shock. He managed a weak nod. She didn't seem to accept his response; his feelings must be clear in his posture.

_Idiot, _his brain screamed at him, _act normal! Don't let her know! _

"I'm okay, Miss." He choked out. Sirius pushed himself into a sitting position, shoving his hands in his pockets to envelope the shaking.

"What were you doing here on your own, anyway?" She asked softly, her eyes carefully guarded. Sirius's eyes involuntarily strayed to _Anchi Analogy_, lying open on the grass a few metres away from him. She followed his gaze.

Celia strode over to the book, plucking it lithely from the damp ground. She flipped it over, swiftly reading the title. Sirius examined her expression; it seemed to become slightly strained, her coal eyes closing and her flawless lips clenched together.

When she spoke, however, her voice was perfectly even, with a tint of amusement.

"You read children's fiction?" She smiled lightly, but it did not reach her eyes.

"No. It's a factual book." Why was he arguing with her? He could have passed it of as fiction; the perfect alibi.

But no, his thoughtless mind had blurted out the truth before he could think; it was difficult, in Celia's presence, to think clearly; something about her demanded full attention, maybe it was her face, her flawless features, her feathery eyelashes…

No, stop thinking of that, Sirius scolded his wandering mind; he often caught himself slipping down that road…

"Be sure to return it; it is a library book, yes?" She interrupted his reverie. Sirius nodded; his eyes glued to an uninteresting pebble; identical to the millions that surrounded it. Anything to stop him looking at her beautiful face.

"Until tomorrow, Mr. Black." Silence followed her words, the wind whistling was the only noise. Sirius glanced up to respond then started in surprise.

She had vanished.

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A/N: **Like it? I hope so; please tell me what you think, if you don't, I may just assume nobody likes it. **

**Right, I'm wondering if anyone actually reads these, so I'm putting it to the test: what is a Beta? Real easy question, so you'd better answer it, suckers. Anyone who does answer it (right, might I add!) will get a life time of servitude from me, and anything else they wish for; be it a chapter of this or a story dedicated to you (sorry, I sound REALLY vain there), or whatever; my imagination is a bit dull today. **

**Review! **

_**G**_**P**


	6. Arguements, Phoenixes and Lacewing Flies

Chapter Five- Arguments, phoenixes and lacewing flies

A/N: **Okay, sixth chapter; should be good, maybe it won't… either way, read and (hopefully) enjoy… **

Disclaimer: **My lollipop is still AWOL, but I am in possession of a black (awesome colour might I add!) pencil, so add that to my list of things. But Harry Potter is NOT among them…yet. **

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_17__th__ September _

The fire crackled. Students lounged in the scarlet chairs encircling it; the tower's walls were washed an enticing rose. Gold Gryffindor banners were suspended off of them, the lion symbol emblazoned on each, so that countless life size impersonations of the king of the jungle glared down at the pupils of Hogwarts, baring their teeth in unison when a stray teenager unexpectedly yawned loudly.

Lupin glanced up from his position beside the fire- putting the finishing touches to his phoenix- his gaze meeting Sirius's, who was draped over the arms of a ruby coloured armchair, his legs dangling over the edge. They rolled their eyes in synch, their attention flicking to James, who was helplessly babbling to a Lily who was so obviously somewhere else entirely.

"Should we go and rescue him?" Sirius mouthed across the room at Remus, who raised one eyebrow.

"Him? Why him?" He mouthed back. "Lily's the one is getting tortured."

Sirius sniggered, stretched and rose lithely from his relaxed position. He sauntered over to where the young werewolf was sitting; leaned on the back of Remus' chair and examined the artwork critically.

"Pathetic." He concluded, trying and failing to restrain his snickers at Lupin's expression; he seemed to be undecided whether to yell at his best friend, stomp around and throw some stuff through a window- preferably something breakable- or curl up and cry. He sighed dejectedly at the drawing and in one fluid movement, grasped the picture and ripped it into pieces; his eyes followed the tattered remains of his talent flutter onto the table and lie, still and lifeless, on the polished wood.

"Mate!" Sirius yelped horrified, Lupin stared at him emotionlessly. "What did you do!? I was only joking!"

"But it was true; I'm crap at drawing. I'm not bothering anymore." Lupin's shoulders slumped and he sighed forlornly. Sirius gaped at him with incredulity.

James loped over; Lily sighed with relief and stalked away, unnoticed, to her friends.

"What's goin' on, guys?" He inquired curiously. He glanced at Sirius. "Mate, you look like you've witnessed a murder; what's up?"

"He…he…" Sirius choked out, disbelief still colouring his voice. "He ripped… up his… picture."

"Well, that was stupid. Whatdidya do that for, Moony?" James asked stupidly.

"It was crap." Remus barely managed to utter before Sirius interrupted, bellowing; "Idiot! It was fine!"

"Maybe fine's not good enough." Lupin retorted quietly. James and Sirius stared at their friend, exasperated.

…………………

The seven boys in the Gryffindor Dormitory were asleep. They were all in deep unconsciousness, their combined snores making it impossible for any of them to hear even the loudest of sounds, let alone a solitary figure padding across the thick carpet and descending the protesting stairs to the Common Room.

The meagre firelight threw lengthy shadows across the carpet, transforming the innocent furniture into rearing beasts, illuminating the creeper's features to reveal him as Sirius Black.

He stalked, in full sneaky mode, to the table nearest the perishing fire, the last pitiful streaks of crimson light casting the torn paper's shadows over the opposite armchair.

The shredded phoenix gazed up at him forlornly, its slender wings ripped into tatters; Sirius felt guilt, cold and hard, wash over him- this was his fault.

But he _could_ fix it.

"_Repairo_" he whispered, pointing his wand- a smooth one made of black mahogany- at the remains. In unison, they twitched, crawling towards each other, sealing the holes and rejoining themselves. Within seconds, Sirius was looking at a seamlessly repaired drawing, the phoenix trilling melodically from the folds of parchment.

"Moony will thank me." Sirius muttered to the bird absently, staring at the embers of the long abandoned fire. "One day. Maybe."

…………………

"James! Sirius!" Lupin's bellow shook Sirius awake what seemed like minutes after he had crawled back into bed, after staring at the drawing for hours. "WHERE THE HELL, IS MY DRAWING!" James shrank back into his pillow on the bed next to him under Remus's brutal glare, trying to disappear as the ferocity increased. Lupin obviously didn't have any recollection of the previous evening.

"I…uh," He stammered, his mind blank as he stared into Moony's feral, glowering eyes.

"Spit. It. Out. Prongs." Lupin hissed out, his teeth clenched together in his fury.

"It's um, gone." James whispered, his eyes screwing up, bracing himself for the suspected onslaught.

"Gone?" Moony's tone was deadly quiet, his eyes flaring with every word. "What do you mean, gone?"

James and Sirius flinched in unison; this wasn't going to be pretty.

The other boy's in the dormitory had awoken- probably everyone in the school had, due to Remus's volume- and were watching intently, interest and expectation on every face. Sebastian Joy, a tall boy with mousy brown hair that fell to his chin in frizzy waves and who blinked constantly, leaned behind Rupert Lace and murmured in Julian Graves- a cold snoot, in Sirius's opinion- ear and mock whispered; "Three galleons Lupin takes out Potter."

Sirius stiffened, his body tensing to turn, his fingers clenched into a fist. He went tenser still as Julian replied; "Four it's Black."

Sirius snarled softly, incomprehensible to the two grinning boys behind him. Moony was still shooting dagger glances at his two friends; suspicion and unconcealed rage evident on his face. With a grunt, Sirius hauled the two out of the door and dragged them down the stairs; they protested, cursing him to hell and back as he shoved them roughly and wordlessly out of the portrait hole and down the corridor, blatantly ignoring their furious cries. The paintings eyed Sirius and his captives warily as he passed, but he gave no inclination that he was aware of their attention.

"Bloody hell, Padfoot!" James yelled as Sirius silently heaved the writhing forms with ease, despite the fact that they were both almost fully grown, and were equally furious. "What the fuck are you playing at?" Sirius didn't answer, only increased his speed.

Before any of them could say anything else, Sirius whisked them around and pinned them to the stone wall, pressing them into it until they were completely immobile.

"Jesus, Sirius, have you lost _all _your sanity?" Lupin roared; his eyes flashing as he struggled against the restraint Sirius had wordlessly cast. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

"There's nothing wrong with _me, _Moony." Sirius answered quietly, his voice slow and deliberate. "It's the two of you who are of questionable mental stability."

Two knife-sharp glowers were aimed pointedly at him, burning holes into Sirius. He glared back studiously.

"Well, if you hadn't allowed me to rip my drawing up"- Lupin began hotly, but broke off as Sirius reached into his pocket and fanned himself conspicuously with a piece of petal-printed paper. His friend sighed and handed Lupin the paper.

"What"- Remus started to reply uncertainly, but a sweet, rhythmic warble interrupted him, issuing from the folded paper. The expensive paper twisted of its own accord from Lupin's fingers; and floated, suspended by nothing, in the air; and with a harmonious trill, the sketched phoenix erupted from the dancing paper, twirling elegantly around Lupin's head.

"Sirius, how…how…" Remus gasped as the bird he had so laboriously drawn soared around his shoulder once more, golden sparkles drifting behind it, and drifted back into the paper, where it remained, motionless and beautiful. "How did you _do_ that?"

Sirius grinned and tapped the side of his nose; "Magic." He said simply.

……………

The remainder of the week streaked by in an incomprehensible blur for Sirius; he spent every conscious moment escaping the clutches of countless love-sick teenagers bent on worming their way into his heart, going to detentions and circumventing the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

He evaded her whenever possible, seen as he had developed a rather annoying habit of going completely breathless in front of her; he forgot what he was supposed to be saying, what he was doing. Hell, he couldn't even remember what his name was.

Sirius knew what she was, that she was a cold-blooded killer, but every time his eyes met hers, he felt a rush of exhilaration, but not fear.

Even though she was perfectly capable of murdering him, he could not be afraid of her.

Even when her eyes were black and cold; and she turned their hypnotic influence on him, he was not afraid. With exception to when he first encountered her after becoming certain that she was an Anchi, he had felt no terror when she looked at him, only a strange, exploding sensation in his stomach.

This new, foreign feeling disturbed Sirius, and in a desperate attempt to rid himself of the emotion, he turned to the pining female teenagers for distraction.

None could satisfy him though, however many of the Seventh Year girls he 'entertained' the sensation did not disappear, or even recede in the slightest. Every lock of Celia's eyes with his unsheathed the monstrous emotions and left Sirius feeling confused and disorientated afterwards.

Which left Sirius with no options; he could not define the feelings he experienced when he saw Celia, could not escape them, so he had no choice.

He would have to talk to Moony, who knew everything about everything. He would know how to help Sirius.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\//\/\/\//\

"The Secreius Curse," Celia- Sirius could not think of her as Miss Angeletti- began, her golden eyes smouldering. "Enables the curser to bind the victim to secrecy. If a being knows a particular piece of information that the curser wishes to keep unknown, they can bind the victim with magically, so that it causes actual pain to attempt to tell the said information."

In the barest seconds that she paused, several things became apparent to Sirius.

Celia was aware that he knew.

She would go to any lengths to ensure his silence.

Malfoy had just flicked a rolled up piece of paper at him.

Lucius smirked, turned around and began to whisper to his cronies; Serpit and Gust; Celia halted talking and regarded him silently, her arms folded across her chest. By now the class's cheerful adolescent chatter had dwindled, every eye was fixated upon the three, simmering expectation hanging in the air -it was almost tangible- at what was to come.

Lucius didn't stop, even though it was clear to Sirius he was aware of the atmosphere he had created. He continued to drawl on to his uncomfortable body guards.

He did not get further.

In two strides, Celia had become level with Malfoys' chair; she grasped his collar, hauling him to his feet in one fluid movement. She said nothing as he began to shout as she shoved him roughly towards the door and threw him through it. Before she passed through the door, she turned and addressed the confounded class.

"Page twenty three, answer the questions on how to differentiate Vastails from Common Loons; and the ways in which to do so in exercise forty two please." Her ochre eyes were solid and cold as she sauntered through the doorway to where the petrified boy stood, trembling in terrified expectation.

"I love this teacher." James muttered, grinning, into Sirius's ear, as deadly shouts, coupled with whimpers could be heard from behind the thin walls, the former sounding suspiciously like Celia, and the latter Malfoy.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The fire crackled. Students lounged in the scarlet chairs encircling it; the tower's walls washed an enticing rose. The seats closest to the heat were occupied by two boys and a girl- a third black haired, green-eyed boy was leaning casually on the back of the girl's chair; causing her to flick her red hair behind her shoulder and tut in irritation.

Sirius rose halfway out of the warmth painted chair and draped himself into a more comfortable position.

"You not finished yet, Moony?" He yawned widely and cracked and eyes open blearily. "You shame me." Was his reply as his companion shook his head, his brow furrowed in concentration. At his remark, Lupin raised his head, frowning in annoyance.

"Why do you ask _Padfoot?_ Why do you care whether I've finished? And why," he raised an eyebrow as he eyed the pile of parchment and quills strewn in front of his friend speculatively. "Haven't you started?"

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies, _Remmie_." Sirius moved his arm, which was slung over his face, so he could peek out from under it and grin impishly, only adding to his look of up-to-no-good. "I'm copying your when you're done." Moony would have laughed and congratulated his friend on the humorous remark, except Sirius was perfectly serious. Instead, he clucked in indignation. "You're most certainly not, Sirius."

Sirius yelped and sprang into the air, thus toppling off the chair and onto the hearth. He shot Lupin a look that was both incredulous and disgruntled, mixed with puppy dog eyes, which resulted in him looking utterly sardonic.

"I'm serious, do your own work." Remus persisted, unaffected by the thoroughly disturbing stared Sirius was sending his way. Sirius snorted at his words.

"No you're not, I'm Sirius."

Lupin was about to retort when James cleared his throat, causing the two of them to glance around at the common room. In the time they had been heatedly arguing, the room had emptied, leaving the three Marauders the occupants of it.

"It's time." James had adopted a formal, tight voice as he said the words, and then grinned as he saw Sirius's confounded expression.

"We're going to get the lacewings flies, remember?" Lupin explained.

Realisation swept over Sirius's features. "Ah, the Polyjuice potion ingredients."

"Yes, the flies need to be caught when the moon reaches two thirds of the way across the sky."

"Talk about being difficult." Sirius grumbled as he rose.

"Oh well, at least we get to go into the Forest." James grinned, Lupin sighed and Sirius whooped.

"Come, then," Remus said, authority seeping into his manner. "We have to go. James, get the cloak."

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**Right, sorry for the wait guys. I don't really like this chapter, because nothing happens in it, but was, like all of my boring chapters, unavoidable, unless you wanted it to be three times this size. Which I suppose wouldn't be too bad…**

**Hope you like it, and there's no damn errors, if so, review and tell me. Or just review. I don't care if it's about this story or you just want to tell someone about the new pet you have, I'm ready and waiting, so press the button. **

_**G**_**P**


	7. The Forest

**Chapter Six **

A/N: **Well I'm back cyber people; hope my absence wasn't too sorely missed- ha, you were all probably bringing out the champagne and 'special occasion' china. I've written this chapter more than seven times, because it just didn't seem right, but I think this is satisfactory. Anyway, here's chapter six, where something exciting happens… maybe; you'll just have to read on….**

Disclaimer: **Here we go again; I… don't…own Harry…Potter (breaks down in tears)**

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_17__th__ September _

Mist swirled around them, cloaking them in a shroud of silver.

The trio drifted deeper into the unyielding darkness; several metres apart from each other, lost in the alluring web of their own thoughts. The undergrowth barred their way regularly, and they were forced to slow their pace and attempt to continue by shoving the foliage aside. Some of it acquiesced immediately at a shake of their fingers, leaving the boys' paths clear, whilst others snarled menacingly, baring sharpened fangs and cavernous mouths and lunging hidden limbs at their groping hands.

Sirius loved the Forest.

The depth, the mystery that enveloped every leaf, every rivulet that ran along the bodies of the decrepit trees that soared upwards, their very tips vanishing in the oppressing gloom, and most of all; the silence.

No sound emanated from the forest, as was as if he had been separated from Hogwarts and all of its hectic ways; the overwhelming wall of emotion, the petty disputes over dominance; the brittle, easily-made relationships that surrounded any school.

Sirius hated it.

He longed to sit forever in the familiar, craved silence of the forest, to forget about everything that tied him to the earth; his family and their Dark rituals, the scorn and superior disgust that he saw on their faces when they looked at him, the sour, hate-filled bile that spewed from their mouths when they addressed him- all for being different from all the Slytherin-bred people that he was related to. He wanted to leave the antics of the student's far behind- the schemes, the betrayal, the never-ending lust for superiority and leadership, and the undermining plots to uproot the people they called friends. Sirius loathed the behaviour that surrounded him when he sat in the classrooms; the easy, hastily-constructed friendships that shattered at the whisper of a rumour, the casually dropped insinuations that flared bitter hatred that continued to simmer for years ahead.

The yearning to run through the forest grass and see things no human could -or would- ever see was unbearable, the building pressure pounding in Sirius head, making the blood circulate his body faster as adrenaline seeped into his system gradually, collecting speed as he began to move faster.

And then he was flying.

Wind whistled through his fur, ruffling the black hair into irregular and illegible patterns too complicated for Sirius to comprehend as he streaked through over the uneven earth, feeling the dried soil crumble beneath the pads of his feet. He made no sound as he slipped between the spindled trunks, his feet leaving not the barest hint of his passing.

Zipping through the leaves and splashes of moonlight like ghost, Sirius was vaguely aware of the flash of white on his left- it melted back into the array of varying shades of blacks and greys that formed the foliage before he had time to glance its way. Hoof-beats leaked into his acute hearing, and moments later a stag with a full head of antlers galloped into his vision. Sirius glanced at his companion, and uttered a low, raspy dog-laugh. A figure was clinging perilously to the crisp white fur of the stag, their head bent and their cutting through with ease.

Remus glared at him from behind James's antlers (**A/N: If you don't think **_**that's**_** a weird sentiment, I advice you reread it.) **as Siriusfailed to stop a second stream of bark-chuckles issuing from his lips. Remus opened his mouth and began throwing profanities at the running canine.

Sirius laughed again, and continued pelting through the forest with the stag and his rider right behind him.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Eventually, Sirius slowed, allowing his spindly legs to fold underneath him and carry him to the cracked earth. Transformation began at the touch of the churned, dried mud.

The stag joined a now-human Sirius in the clearing moments later. Sirius glanced sideways at the advancing forms and lifted his head, a sly smirk already on his face.

The amusement that wafted off of him became almost tangible as Remus slid off the stag's back. His legs buckled and flopped onto the ground next to Sirius with relief.

"Hey Remmie. Have a nice trip?" Childhood innocence replaced the amusement as Remus glared at Sirius.

"Yeah, bloody brilliant. The best ride of my life." Sarcasm dripped from Remus's words like ice on a drainpipe.

"No need to get defensive, Remmikins." Sirius chuckled over his shoulder, walking deeper into the Forest as he did so. "Sarcasm so doesn't become yo-"

Without warning, Sirius slammed into a very immobile, very hard surface. A tree? Sirius didn't bother to look.

He flopped backwards and uttered a string of muttered swear words after completing a fancy movement which resulted in him landing flat on his back on the floor.

"Clever, but very spiteful Remus. I had believed such acts were beneath you." Sirius couldn't hold his grin back though as he turned to face the two buggers.

And froze, the grin sliding of his face in a silent wisp, at the sight that met his eyes.

Remus and James were standing as motionless and as white as statues; pure, unconventional terror evident on their faces. Around both their necks and waists, pale, blood-leached fingers were splayed, appearing fragile in the moonlight that filtered through the leaves above their heads- but one glance at their owner's faces assured you that they were far from fragile.

Two people restrained them; a man and a woman. Ethereal, other-worldly beauty clung to them like a second skin, and their eyes glinted violet in the moonlight, burning with the incredible, insatiable thirst of an animal. Cold rushed over Sirius as he drank in more of the scene in front of him; the people's ragged, blood splattered attires, their dirt-clogged fingers, their tangled hair, matted with soil and dried blood. So _this_ was what you got when you dumped a mass-murderer in a forest with no change of clothes.

Despair flooded his thoughts as the realisation that he had known all along poured into his mind; he knew who- or, more specifically, _what_- these people were, and one glance at Remus told Sirius he knew as well.

There was no way in hell they would survive this; the three of them knew that fact, so did the formidable people who had sprung upon them so unexpectedly with the skill and practised ease of a professional hunter- even the bloody carrion birds now wheeling in the sky, silhouetted against the moon above them knew that; they were flocking together in expectation like a sales-assistant to an unsuspecting customer.

Sirius was certain of one thing at least; they were well and truly scuppered.

A small voice echoed in his head, telling him that _he_ could run, there were only two of _them_, and three hostages; they would be distracted, and he may just be able to escape with his life.

At the expense of the only real friends he had.

The thoughts were instantly quashed and shovelled into the farthest corner of his mind before guilt could overtake his actions.

That was when Sirius realised that cold patches had appeared on his body. On his neck, and around his waist.

Hands of another one of Them.

There were three of them after all.

Sirius didn't attempt to struggle with the iron bands that were wrapping around him, encasing him in an unbreakable cage. He knew what they belonged to, and he knew the possibility of escape was futile now. Rasping breaths whistled in his ear, accompanied by the vile stench of decaying flesh; Sirius dry-retched. Blackness clouded his vision as the stench increased as the man holding him brought his mouth closer to him. He caught a flash next his right ear; the man's fangs, outstretched glistening with blood and saliva.

Before he sank into unconsciousness, Sirius thought mildly and was slight annoyance.

_We only came for some bloody Lacewing Flies._

A/N:** Short but defiantly one of my best I'm a-thinking. And once again, I'm infinitely sorry for the delay; with Christmas, and my birthday; my fathers, my **_**cousins**_**… … and then writers block- you know the deal. **

**Oh, and all you Broken lovers out there- also updated, but it won't show up on your alerts ****because**** I replaced an earlier memo chapter with an actual one. So go and enjoy! And review both stories, we mustn't forget that!**

_**A**_**T**


	8. Flash Of Gold

**CHAPTER SEVEN Flash Of Gold**

Disclaimer: **I don't claim. **

**"Carae" "Cah-ray"**

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………...

_18__th__ January 1960, 11:56pm _

It wouldn't be long now; a few more minutes. To be exact, it would be one hundred and seventy nine point seven seconds until he had to concentrate. Just one spark of his will and a significant slice of the operation would fall into place.

The gentle rhythm of the decrepit grandfather clock soothed his aching mind, the appeasing chime washing over him like warm water, calming him and allowing him to extend his senses.

A monologue of sound crashed over him, the volume increasing the ache that he'd been feeling considerably since he had acknowledged dominance over the pitiful excuse of the once-great wizard Albus Dumbledore, without him even noticing. In his prime, Dumbledore had been an exceptional man, but time had eaten at his energy, and his magic had withered alongside his life. Now Dumbledore was nothing more than an ancient, riveted fool who had underestimated his past friends power; one slip was all it had taken, and control had been _his_, not Albus's. Although he didn't know it yet; he still believed he was the master of his own mind, but _he_ had been influencing everything move Dumbledore made for the past seventy years.

Intriguing how rapidly cards could switch hands.

It had been frightfully easy; the old man's mind had been fragile and uncoordinated, and the only thing he had had to do was sow seeds of deceit within the ancient man's mind and Dumbledore had walked into his hands like a dog on a lead. Effortless- the only potentially problematic point had been gaining access to the old man's mind, and that obstacle had been swept away more than sixty years previous; and then he had lain in wait, deep within the fool's mind, waiting for the ideal opportunity.

He would have to surface now, to influence Dumbledore's actions, but then he could loose himself in the fool's thoughts and over-active imagination once more, and Albus wouldn't even know he existed.

The man glanced fleetingly at the clock, barely able to discern the time through the thick blanket of dust coating its face.

A thunderous booming echoed off of the damp, mould-spattered walls as the first of twelve chimes began on the grandfather clock.

With a humourless smile, the man seized Dumbledore's mind and imprisoned it within his own significantly greater mind, gaining control of the body the two men shared. Now in complete control, he embraced the rivers of thought around him.

Thousands of minds screamed for his attention, but he had a purpose for dwelling in the sea of thoughts that hovered above the world, that the irrelevant beings below remained oblivious to. He sought one familiar mind out of the ocean, and after several seconds he found it.

Thousands of miles away, a woman was in her fifteenth hour of labour, and with one burst of powerful thought, he whispered insubstantial words that she would undoubtedly oblige to in her minds ear, telling her when to wait, when to push…

One second it took for him to do what he had waited to do for over three decades, but it was done; a part of the operation was rapidly falling into place.

As he opened Dumbledore's eyes, he glanced at the hands on the grandfather clock and smiled. Not on second astray.

He alone had completed the most preciously important part of the mission; he had ensured that Sirius Black was born at exactly twelve o'clock at night, on the eighteenth of January, 1960.

_17th September 1972 _

Sirius drifted in and out of consciousness, feral snarls and sounds of hostility surrounding him. Only darkness met his gaze when he opened his eyes.

He was lying face down in the churned sludge of the fallen leaves, dead insects and rotting foliage of the Forest. His throat and chest burned, as if he had been seared with iron-hot rods.

Or, fittingly, the hands of vampires, whose ice-cold touch was bitter enough to burn your bare skin.

Which was exactly what had been holding him, James and Remus captive just minutes before.

Vampires were animals; they were agile, dexterous and had the IQ of a super-brain. They were cleverer than your average hunter, and considerably more powerful; their hunts were carried out with precision, and almost never lost their chosen target. No mere human or animal could ever best them in a fair frontal clash; only supremely gifted witches and wizards could even hope to avoid getting butchered _straight_ away in conflict with them, and some magical creatures could perhaps fend attacking vampires off, but that that the height of immunity to vampires.

So why was something battling the vampires -for Sirius could tell easily that they were still here; the stench of decay still clung thickly in the air- and more so, what could possibly have made the creatures think it a deadly enough opponent to abandon their prey?

Hisses and animalistic snarls reached Sirius's ears again, followed by thumps, indicating that someone-or something- was being pinned down and torn at with razor-sharp fangs. In a split-second of indecision, Sirius realised that it was an ideal opportunity to escape the scene, but couldn't locate his friends through the omnipresent gloom.

He was about to move when a dry, throaty laugh echoed terrifyingly close to him.

"You fight well, Carae. Let us cease this futile conflict."

The word 'Carae' meant nothing to Sirius, but small filters of predawn light had seeped through the towering branches, and allowed him to make out a dim, grey picture of the scene in front of him.

The two vampires stood in the sparse clearing not ten metres away, their tense forms bent into fighting stances, facing a shadow-bathed figure half-concealed in the trees. Sirius couldn't discern any more than the third figures outline; the shadows washed away any remnants of identification, but when they spoke, Sirius felt a rush of familiarity, despite having no recollection of when he had heard it before.

"As do you, Vitar." Sirius's head swam as he tried to remember what Vitar meant; he'd heard it somewhere, he knew it… He felt a rush of anger at the vampires and whoever the third person was, why couldn't they talk like normal people?

"Ah! You speak the Old Tongue?" The delight was evident in the vampire's voice. He was about to add more when the female interrupted him.

"Why did you attack us, Carae?" Her sugared tone was under-layered with a hint of something menacing, but the shadow-clad stranger remained undeterred.

"Hogwarts has rather loose boundaries compared to other schools, but I doubt it would tolerate you eating three of its pupils."

"And what would they do to stop us?" The female vampire sneered, all sweetness lost from her voice. "They lack strength and swiftness; we would be long gone before they reached here. And anyway," She leaned forward. "You are the only one who can provide evidence to our _crime_, and you are easily disposed of."

She sprang forwards before she had finished, her enhanced nails wildly slashing the air around her in an attempt to catch the darkness-cloaked being in front of her.

One claw raked across the darkness, and withdrew, smeared in blood. Not a fatal cut, but enough to send the male vampire into a frenzy of blood-lust.

Sirius could guess, from all the vampire books he'd read- forced upon him in his sixth year by the DADA teacher who had always resembled a century-old prune in his opinion- that whatever this person was, it wasn't human; no human could withstand two fully-fledged vampires alone.

His ponderings were interrupted when the male vampire hissed, and performed an alien somersault in mid-air; a result of lunging forwards and trying to stop at the same time.

"It's you?" He whispered incredulously.

A cold, humourless laugh issued from the trees. "Took you long enough, Kavar."

"Adair, it's really you? Last I heard, you were in the Atlians, acting as a negotiator."

"True, but my presence was required here." Sirius strained to catch the accent, but the sound of whoever it was slipped through the air around him, melting away as soon as it appeared. "And I believe yours"- their tone turned icy- "is not."

"Ah, yes," The vampire seemed almost… afraid, of this mysterious person lurking in the shadows. The notion sounded foreign to Sirius – a vampire, _afraid _of something? Ridiculous. "We didn't expected to see… well, _you_ here, Adair. We… we'll just, leave."

"It would be best if you did, Kavar," Steel remained in the figure's voice. "We may be acquainted, but do not fool yourself; return and you will regret it."

Sirius waited- his body still tensed against the hard earthen floor, his eyes straining to make out more than just the outlines of trees- for the vampires reply, but none came.

The vampires had gone. They'd disappeared faster than his weak human eyes could follow.

Which left him, his unconscious friends and the shadow-cloaked figure.

Who was emerging from the concealment of the trees in front of him.

Sirius couldn't tell whether the figure was male or female; the heavy black travelling cloak that hung off them masked any identification pointers. His heartbeat increased as the figure strode forward, but they hadn't noticed him; they were bending down into the thick underbrush, obviously searching for something. Something extended from the folds of black cloth, and Sirius, from his vantage point, caught a flash of pale skin- a hand? - And a dark circle splashed upon it, evident against the pallid colour of the rest of the hand-or whatever it was.

The figure straightened, and looked directly at him. Terror rushed over him like a torrent of water.

Frozen with fear and unable to move, Sirius remained motionless in the stunted trees and plants that built up the underbrush of the Forest. A flash of gold, deep within the impenetrable darkness of the hood that concealed the face of whoever it was, realised him from his petrified state. The figure didn't need to speak to convey it's message; _leave now and don't look back. _

Without thinking, Sirius scrambled up and skidded over to where his friends lay, bruises already forming on their faces where they had been struck unconscious by the vampires. Placing a hand on each of them, he extended his senses.

With a deep breath, he apparated, leaving the confines of the Forest and its shadow-swathed figure far behind.

A/N: **bit of a sappy ending there, but hey, I'm writing this at like one o'clock in the morning, so leave me alone about it already! So um, yeah, has anyone guessed who this "figure" is? It might be obvious, but if you reread chapter two, you might find out; there is a clue or two in there…… mentions for whoever reviews and gets it right!**

_**A**_**T**


	9. Authoress's Note

To all readers of EHTS-

I've decided to put this on hold until my others story(s) are finished. They're not going to be massively long so you won't have to wait too long for me to continue this EHTS.

So, I would suggest putting a tab on **BROKEN** or **FORBIDDEN** (you don't have to read them) so you'll know when I've finished them. I'm not one to ditch a story (I just write others when I have no new ideas) so I can promise you I'm not giving up on it and I WILL continue. Just not for a while.

_**Thank You, **_

_**A**_**T**


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